


dennis finds his feelings

by bpddennis



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied Mental Instability, M/M, angst w/ some obvious happy gays finally kissing, dennis cries, mac has Big Strong Arms to hold dennis, post s13 finale, the literal slightest rape mention, v v v subtle implied eating disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 08:45:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16636685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bpddennis/pseuds/bpddennis
Summary: mac comes out to his dad and dennis realizes some stuff about the past 20 years.





	dennis finds his feelings

Sure, things are different. They’re way different now. And ever since Mac came back from that prison after doing that ‘dance’, he’s been different. He came back to the apartment, extremely damp, cheeks slightly pink, a look of absolute anguish in his eyes. Dennis thinks 2 years ago, maybe 3 or 4, they would have ended up sleeping together. Because Dennis would have lifted Mac’s chin up, said some pretty words to that pretty face, and got what he wanted.  
But Mac just walked inside the apartment, peeled off his t-shirt as he sauntered to his bedroom, and shut the door. And that was it. 

Did Dennis expect anything? Like, no, why would he? It’s not like he misses the feeling of Mac’s body pressed against his. It’s not like he got used to it or anything, got used to his hot breath on Dennis’ cheeks and neck and collarbones. He didn’t miss Mac’s soft, angelic snores. He didn’t miss the way Mac would wake up 5 different times during the night only to tighten his grip around Dennis’ waist. Not like he missed Mac’s cold feet in the morning on his calves. It’s whatever, you know. Mac can do whatever he wants. Dennis will live.

 

But everything in Dennis’ chest tightens when he sees Mac lately. Because Mac’s weirdly quiet, sometimes will just up and leave the bar. He’s more observant; he just eyes the gang as they yell about whatever as he sips his beer. It’d be so fucking easy to ask Mac, ‘hey, wanna talk about what happened with your asshole dad? Wanna spoon afterwards in my bed? Want me to kiss you like I used to? I know I’ve been a piece of shit friend and roommate and…whatever we are. But how can I make it better?’ In theory, that should be super easy. But every time Dennis tries to pull the words out of his throat, something gets lost, or stuck. 

 

Dennis stares at Mac, just hoping his facial expressions will convey everything he’s too scared to say. ‘I’m sorry. You’re beautiful. Your dad doesn’t love you but I sure as hell can.’ It’s too heavy, feelings are too heavy. 

Dee and Charlie are trying to throw beer peanuts into a solo cup across from them on the pool table. Charlie is grinning like an idiot, and Dee flips him off as he manages to get all ten of his peanuts in the cup, first try. Mac manages half-smiles here and there at their antics. 

“I’m gonna smoke.” Dennis murmurs, just loud enough so that Mac can hear. Mac perks up. “You’re smoking again?”  
Dennis just shrugs, grabbing his pack of cigarettes from behind the bar. He heads outside, exiting the back of the bar to smoke by the dumpsters, just like old days. 

It’s cold for Philly in November. Fuck, and Dennis remembers when him and Mac used to be a team – what was it, 7 years ago? Maybe 6? Before everything got weird? – Mac would always bring Dennis a spare coat because he damn well knew Dennis and his anemia would be screwed the second the sun went down. He shutters against the wind as he draws the cigarette to his mouth. His exposed forearms and neck and cheeks already burn due to the freezing air. The button up he’s wearing is pathetic attire. 

He hears the door behind him open and close. Mac.  
Dennis doesn’t admire the way Mac’s cheeks immediately turn the loveliest shade of red. No, he for sure doesn’t.

 

“Hey, man.” Mac murmurs. He’s in that one leather jacket, the one he’s had for years. It can’t possibly keep him warm. But Mac is all muscle now and doesn’t have multiple vitamin deficiencies like Dennis. So he’s probably able to keep warm more easily. 

“Mm.” Dennis replies curtly. Come on. It’s not like Mac has done anything wrong, so why does Dennis feel so upset and terrified and scared and incomplete? 

“You should wear a coat, y’know. You got a shit immune system.”

“You don’t get sick from the cold, Mac, you get it from various bacteria and viruses in the air. I’m okay.” Dennis nearly snaps, and Jesus Christ, this tension is ridiculous. Dennis’ face softens when he sees Mac’s eyebrows knit together for a moment in rejection.

“I mean – y’know, thanks. Yeah. I should wear a coat.” Dennis shakes his head. “I just, y’know, shit like that doesn’t matter to me.” He kicks at a rock on the ground and breathes out a puff of smoke. 

“I think yours is hidden in my closet somewhere.” Mac shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “I’ll have to dig it up for ya.” 

Dennis nods. “Mm. Thanks.”

“So.” Mac says. It’s too much.

“So?”

“So. I, uh, came out to my dad.”

“I heard.”

“Yep.”

“How’d it go?” He might as well ask. 

“Awful. It’s fine, though.” Mac adds. Mac always tries to be stronger than he is. 

“Your dad’s garbage.” Dennis remarks. 

“Is that so?” Mac questions, crossing his arms. And this is where the bucket drops. Dennis throws his cigarette on the ground and grinds it into the cracked pavement with his hightop heel. 

“Yeah, it is.” Dennis states, arrogance dripping in his voice. “He always has been, and honestly, I don’t know what you expected from going to see him.” He shrugs, like it’s obvious.

“And you think you treat me any better than him?” Mac asks, tone rising. 

Dennis’ eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“C’mon, like you wouldn’t have brushed me off the same exact way, Den.” A nickname. It’s friendly, but Mac’s tone implies anything but. 

“Mac, that’s ridiculous-“

“Is it? Because ever since you got back, Dennis, you don’t have anything to say to me. It’s insult after insult, it’s asshole remarks every day out of you, like I’m still not good enough to even be your roommate, bro! But my dad is the asshole?” 

“Your dad is an asshole!” Dennis exclaims. 

“That’s not the point!” Mac yells back. “The point is you used to be my best friend, blood brother, or whatever, and just because I’m gay doesn’t mean you can treat me like I’m inferior to you, or something!” He’s smarter now, Dennis notes. He knows how to actually argue. Dennis used to be able to manipulate him, hell, he still wants to manipulate Mac – and he probably could. But it’s probably not right to. (But was it ever right to?)

Mac continues. “I’m so sick of this song and dance you try and do with me all the time. My dad may be an asshole, fine. But you have never been any better than him.” Mac spits back with venom. It hurts. Of course it does. Because Dennis has this untamed desire in his heart to always have Mac agree with him, he always needs Mac to love him, and go to the ends of the Earth for him. It hurts because Dennis probably can’t love anyone except Mac. It hurts because it’s all true. Mac and Dennis used to be best friends, partners in crime, lovers, (lovers?) and what happened? Dennis’ pride, his shame, his ego, his fear. It all piled up, yeah. And here he is, standing outside alone next to a dumpster.  
The air still smells like Mac, like a really shitty cologne. Like hope. Like the past 20 years. 

Dennis enters the bar. Mac isn’t there. Dee and Charlie have given up their game. They’re both mindlessly scrolling on their phones. Dennis feels pain in his chest, but he’s used to it by now. 

 

It snows the next day. Dennis admires it from the window in his room. It’s fucking beautiful. He imagines two winters ago. One day him and Mac were heading into work for their shift. It was a blizzard, how the two of them actually made it there is a miracle. But as they got out of the range rover, the snow attached to Mac’s hair, and eyelashes, and Dennis made a mental note of how gorgeous it all was. It was like slow motion to him. Mac stepping out of the car, immediately trying to blink the snow out of his eyes. Holding the bar door open for Dennis. The endearing way he rustled the snowflakes out of his hair when he got inside, and how he didn’t stomp the snow of his boots as he strut across the bar. 

Where does time fucking go? 

He contemplates getting up. Mac could be home. Or he could have left. But judging from the snow outside, Dennis has reasons to believe Mac is drinking hot French vanilla coffee on their leather couch in low-rise sweatpants. The thought makes Dennis’ insides knot up. 

Dennis opens his door and sure enough sees Mac. Mac shifts on the couch, pretending to read something on his phone. 

Something nice. Dennis should do something nice for Mac. 

Dennis awkwardly ponders over the situation in the kitchen as he pours himself a mug of black, lukewarm coffee. He’s too deep in thought to notice Mac enter the kitchen. 

“You can microwave it, y’know.” Mac comments on Dennis’ next to cold coffee. 

“Hmm?” Dennis looks up. “Oh.” But Mac is already taking the mug out of Dennis’ chapped, cold hands and putting in the microwave for a minute. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” Dennis mumbles. Mac responds by getting out Splenda and almond milk for Dennis. 

“And you don’t have to drink your coffee black like an animal. I never got that, bro.” Mac adds. His tone is a little awkward, but Dennis guesses it should be.  
And what does it say about Mac, that even after they fight, he’ll still make Dennis’ coffee? Splenda and almond milk and all. Tell him you love him. It’d be easy! Right?

The microwave beeps. 

Dennis stares in a trance at Mac as he retrieves Dennis’ coffee, back and shoulder muscles flexing. 

“Your back looks good.”

“What?” Mac responds quizzically, handing Dennis his coffee.

“It – your back – uh, it’s just nice, is all.” He takes the coffee from Mac’s hands. “You look good.” Dennis nods. Fuck. Fuck, why is he so stupid and awkward? It’s Mac. 

It’s literally Mac. 

“Thanks, Den.” Mac answers in slight confusion. “’m gonna shower.” And he’s off. 

Dennis contemplates the way he could put his emotions together. Nothing makes sense in his head, no matter how long he racks his brain.

 

Some days go by. It’s fine. Mac and Dennis do normal, bare minimum type shit together. They watch dumb comedy movies when they’re on TV, Mac will make pasta for dinner and give Dennis a bowl. They give each other curt nods and ‘goodnights’ when it’s time for bed. 

Dennis’ heart pangs, wondering if Mac would still let him crawl into his own bed.

He tosses and turns in his own, empty, cold bed, remembering the two of them touching shoulders during their movie nights, brushing their teeth together, Dennis being the little spoon, wearing Mac’s t-shirts and hoodies because they smelled like him, driving to work together with Dennis’ right hand on Mac’s left thigh, feeling Mac’s loving stare on him. He’s absorbed with insomnia night after night imaging his past when he and Mac were unstoppable.  
Hugh Honey and Vic Vinegar, sharing a bed despite Dee’s bony body, touching hands when they shared popcorn, monthly dinners (which have not started up again since Dennis’ return), showering together, Mac making Dennis breakfast, Mac rubbing Dennis’ tense shoulders, falling asleep on each other after work, waking up together. 

It drives Dennis nearly crazy. He cries, he pretends it’s whatever. But night after fucking night, it’s the same thing. 

He guesses one night in particular, about three weeks after their fight, Mac can hear him crying. A knock. Fuck. This might as well happen. Mac might as well confirm his own beliefs that Dennis is a piece of shit.

“What?’ Dennis responds, but it comes out scratchy and with the obvious tell that he’s been crying a little too much. 

Mac creaks the door open, cautiously. “Can I come in, Den?”

“Yeah.” Again, Dennis’ voice sounds too weak for his liking. He clears his throat, wipes his eyes quickly. 

He buries his face into his pillow. He feels Mac sit on the edge of the bed; a gentle hand falls onto Dennis’ back.

“Is it –“ Mac coughs. “Can I touch you?” It sounds so fucking sad. Dennis wishes he never put together that seminar, wishes he never told Mac those things. Part of him meant it, but part of him regretted it when he realized Mac had stopped reaching for him, stopped subtly touching his thighs and arms and back. He regretted it when Mac actually believed him – actually believed that Dennis wanted nothing to do with him.

“Yeah. God, yeah.” Dennis nearly sighs in heavenly relief as he feels Mac’s delicate hand stroke his spine, just the way Mac knows eases Dennis. It’s too good to be true. Maybe the term ‘touch starved’ is dramatic, maybe Dennis just needs to get laid. But right now, Mac’s hand on his back is like fucking ecstasy; Dennis melts like butter against Mac’s hand. 

His eyes well up with tears, and he’s thankful Mac can’t see.

“What’s up, buddy?” Mac murmurs. Mac is the loudest fucking person on the planet but hell, when he wants to be gentle, he can be damn soothing. 

He draws up Dennis t-shirt and his fingernails gently trace Dennis' bare skin, up and down.

Dennis shutters out a shaky breath. “I’m fine.” 

The air is silent. Then – 

“I know you’re not.” 

Dennis crumbles. His body racks with full-fledged sobs. His curls in on himself, like he does when he’s upset. Mac is ripping the blanket off, immediately. He’s pulling Dennis into his muscular arms and Dennis is falling apart into them. Dennis is a grown man sobbing into his best friends’ arms about all the lost love he feels in his chest. 

“This is so fucking stupid.” Dennis spits in between sobs. 

Mac cards a hand through Dennis’ curls. “What is?”

“Just – me! Being absolutely pathetic over shit I did to myself!” Dennis rambles into Mac’s shoulder. “I am just like your dickhead dad, I’ve always been, I’ve always fucked you over. And myself over in relation.” He rubs a hand under his nose, wipes his eyes angrily as he pulls himself away from Mac. He’s stopped crying, and now he’s just dealing with the aftermath of a breakdown. 

“C’mon, Den, you know you’re not actually like my dad.” Mac scoffs.

“I am! Mac, you said it yourself! I have always taken advantage of you! I’ve always put me before you, and you fucking know it.” Dennis emphasizes. His eyes are puffy, nose is without a doubt pink and runny. And Mac looks stunning as always. Soft, clad in a hoodie and old sweatpants and his hair is gel-free and messy.

Mac takes Dennis’ hands in his own. The only light in the room comes from the moon shining in through Dennis’ open blinds. 

“Den. You are a shitty friend, sometimes, sure. But sometimes I’m the same way, dude. And I don’t know, man, maybe that’s why we fit so well.” He adds sheepishly. 

Dennis rubs at his cheek as a stray tear falls. 

Mac is still Mac. Even when Dennis has another one of his tantrums, even after Dennis told Mac to stop touching him, that it was never going to happen, not willingly – here Mac is. Still giving his all to Dennis, still rubbing his back and comforting him and holding him.

There is something special about that. There is something Dennis falls in love with. There is a look they share before Dennis is colliding their lips together, nearly flinging himself back into Mac’s arms.

“I thought you told me to stop kissing you.” Mac mumbles against Dennis lips in between fierce kisses. Dennis hands cups Mac’s cheeks as he pulls off momentarily. 

“Do you think I really want you to?” Dennis raises an eyebrow, chest heaving. He can feel Mac’s heavy breathing on his chin.

“I don’t know.” Mac answers, quietly.  
Dennis removes his hands from Mac’s cheeks.

“I don’t want to do this anymore, Dennis, I don’t want to play these games where I kiss you because I think that’s what you want, and then it turns out you don’t want it.” 

Dennis wants to fall apart, wants to die, maybe. 

“You don’t want to?” Dennis asks, almost a whisper. 

“Look, Den, before you left, would I have wanted this? Sure, obviously, of course. But shit’s different now, you know, after that sexual harassment bit. I don’t know, man.” Mac runs a hand through his hair and lets out a shaky sigh. 

“Ah.” Dennis replies, feeling the desensitizing coming. Feels the apathetic nature coming back into his voice, his mannerisms. 

“Den –“ 

“Just – you can leave. It’s fine. Dennis pushes himself farther from Mac and grabs the covers again. “Just shut the door on the way out, yeah?” He’s back under the blanket and turned away from Mac before he can reply. 

 

Dennis gives up for a few days. If he can’t have Mac, what’s the point?  
He sulks in his room, avoids the bar, soaks in his own self-pity. 

One day, something in him must snap. He knows Mac hasn’t left for work yet, knows he’ll be sitting in the living room, feet perched up on the coffee table.

But he feels this adrenaline in him, this ‘all or nothing’ motive inside him.  
He marches out into the living room; he’s in sweats he hasn’t changed in a few days. His hair is probably oily, he probably looks absolutely terrible. But what else could he possibly have to lose?

He stands in front of Mac, hands on his hips. 

Mac looks up from his phone. “Hey, are you good, dude? You’ve barely –“

“Okay, hold on.” Dennis holds his hands up. “I know I’ve been MIA and sulking in my room and shit. But I’ve been thinking about some stuff. Here me out.” He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a moment, and lays his excuse of a heart out for Mac.

“I think that you and I are grossly, somehow, meant to like, be a thing.”

“A thing?’

“A thing.”

“What –“

“I have,” Dennis pauses and rolls his eyes. He makes a grimace. “Feelings.”

“You have feelings?”

“For you.”

“For me?” Mac asks, inflexion raising.

“You didn’t know this?” Dennis hands go back to his hips.

“I mean, like – yeah. No. I mean I know you tried to kiss me, but then you said it would never happen – and that it wouldn’t…not willingly – and then I was thinking you would try and rape me –“ 

“Wha – rape you?” Dennis exclaims in exasperation. 

“Well, yeah, you said not willingly.” Mac slowly repeats for Dennis, as if he’s trying to explain it. “And so I just thought –“

“Mm, okay, you know what, let’s just drop that. I have feelings, as stated previously, for you. And I think that it’s been, y’know, difficult to deal with them. Or something. And I’ve been repressing those feelings for a long time.” He inches towards Mac as he talks and eventually sits next to him on the couch. 

“Are you fucking with me? Because I’ve dreamt about this, dude, like, a million times. One time, you and Charlie actually both –“

“Hey, okay, I’m trying to be romantic and lay my love on the line for you! Why would you bring up a three-way with a man who fishes in sewers?” Dennis’ voice raises an octave like it usually does when he’s flabbergasted. 

“Well, he wasn’t actually – wait. Did you actually say love?” Mac’s eyes slightly widen at Dennis, who is now sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

“Okay, well don’t get all gross about it.” Dennis frowns. 

“Love.”

“Shut up. Okay. Anyways –“

“I think that too. Love. Or whatever. Unless you don’t. Then I don’t.” Mac adds.

Dennis nearly throws his hands up. “Jesus Christ, you’re hopeless! Yes, I feel that way! Now, can you just like, say anything back to validate that I actually feel things for once?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I do.” Mac replies softly. He inches closer to Dennis, wraps his hands around Dennis’ waist, like he usually does. He attaches their lips and it feels like 2005 again when this was all Dennis knew. He tastes like he used to. His body heat radiates onto Dennis. He can feel Mac hands roaming along his shirt, feels Mac’s fingertips digging into Dennis’ protruding ribs.  
Mac squeezes Dennis’ body closer to his as they move their lips together.  
Dennis’ hands rest on Mac’s broad shoulders. He feels safe. He feels wonderful, he feels like he’s in love. He lets his mind think of Mac’s French vanilla coffee and boots and old hair gel and goofy grin and warm, tan skin and the way his voice gets super loud and aggressive when he talks about wrestling or karate or the amount of protein in certain things.

Dennis kisses Mac harder and thinks about high school and graduation and moving in together and the smell of Mac’s aftershave and the way he burns breakfast and thinks about the way he has always loved Mac. 

Annoying, wonderful, loving, dumb, idiotic, incredible, strong, ridiculous Mac. 

“I’m sorry.” Dennis mumbles into Mac’s ear as Mac kisses down Dennis’ throat. 

“Shut up. You’re fine.” Mac sucks a bruise into Dennis’ delicate skin, right where his throat meets his collarbone. Right above Dennis’ thumping heart. 

Dennis sighs in bliss. And after 20 years, all of the puzzle pieces have finally come together.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u so much for reading!!!! i hope you kind of sort of liked it!!!! xx


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